Baby It's Fact
by soccerprincessa23
Summary: This is the story of two people who learn to live and love as teenagers. I'm bad at summaries, so just read an review! Much appreciated! Rated T for possible language.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Sacha**

Wednesday, 10:12

This is the first day of my new life. I am now officially fifteen, and this is the day which I will celebrate like I have never celebrated before, I will look back on it and think 'that was the day'.

This will be the first day in which I will remember as a day that is different than any other.

Shoot! There's mom's whistle. Yes, I said whistle. She uses her whistle to call my entire family out to where she is. She says that it will awaken our senses and that it will help us listen to her. Whatever. It's _so_ annoying. That means it's time to leave for the beach! Hooray! Lemme check my bag, and . . . and . . . yea, I'm good! Got to go now. . .

Laters,

Sacha Doven

Still Wednesday, 11:47

And this is why I never go to this beach. Yes, it may be beyond beautiful with white sand and slightly warm(er) water, but it is so far! Why did I want to go here instead of Santa Cruz, which is only 15 minutes away? Oh, _right_. Because I wanted it more peaceful and less stressful on my birthday. Yea, right. With Ryan, Laurel, and Stephie screaming in the back, I now think that the chance of peaceful and not stressful anytime may be impossible. Why did my parents have to have triplets? Unless you have three younger siblings, you will never know what it's like. Be glad.

I believe I just saw a sign that said the beach is coming up in 15 minutes!

Bye-bye for now,

Sacha Doven

Last time I checked, Oh, ya, it's _still_ Wednesday. 2:21

Tanning in the sun with my (new, ultra-cute pink) sunglasses, while wearing my (yellow and slimming!) bikini, and, I must say, I look fantastic. Now I only wish there were some cute guys here. No, that's a lie; I only wish Dylan was here. He would love how I look now. I wish that I was any prettier than the model-gorgeous girls he must see while lifeguarding back at home. Sigh, but everyone wants what they can't have.

Note to self: find out when his hours are and convince mom to let you go with Stephen and Jessica to the beach while wearing a bikini

I even brought my book today! It always makes a good impression if you are doing something productive while tanning.

Ryan and Stephie are screaming again. I think Laurel is eating sand. I need to fix my messed up life.

Too bad, leaving soon. I've gotta 'Soak Up the Sun' as Sheryl Crow says.

Bye for now,

Sacha D.

No change here, It's Wednesday. 4:58

Finally home. Decided that it's really not worth going to a beach that's that far if Dylan's not there. If I don't get a chance to see Dylan's tanned and defined abs and his white-blonde hair that he casually flips out of the way of his green-blue eyes that stand out against his long eyelashes that framed his face beautifully.

Not that he needed that to be absolutely stunning. He just had this natural, sweet, and laid-back personality that I absolutely love and that lets me talk to him as if he were Stephen, my only guy friend and BFFL (Best-Friend-For-Life).

I love Stephen. He has curly blonde hair and deep blue eyes. He is thin, but at the same time stronger than he looks. He is 'gifted' on the computer and is teased because of it. He is what you would call the 'tech geek' of our school, even though he is not a big fan of video games. I assume he is good at them, but he would much rather be outside on the beach or shooting some baskets (I may be better than him, and I'm not 'gifted' in sports, but he is improving. So yea, in other words, he is not very good, but that doesn't matter. That he tried is all that matters!). We met in preschool, and have been inseparable ever since. I can talk to him about anything, whether its boy problems or my silly moments when I just need to talk. He has always been my shoulder to cry on and my friend to call in times of need.

I hope I am the same for him; I would love to have someone rely on me like that.

I think I just heard the whistle, so that means either Lucas is home or that Mom is having a crisis.

Gotta run!

Sacha D

Lemme check. . . Cool. It's still Wednesday. 5:14

Hooray! My ultra-cool older brother Lucas is home. I can't believe that he actually has a job; it just doesn't seem like him. I am still used to him just hanging around the house all the time, but now that he works, well he spends less time around the house. I don't know what his job is, and honestly, I don't care. I probably should. But all I know is that he's gone most of the day now.

And on the screeching note as the whistle sounds, I leave you in suspense, my dear diary,

Sacha

Shhhh! I'm gonna get in huge trouble if my parents catch me! It's officially Thursday, as of . . . now. 12:00

So I decided that I should probably ask Lucas what his job is, and when I asked, instead of answering me, he ran to his room. He returned with a small box wrapped in frilly pink paper with a blue bow. I opened it to see that it was an expensive pair of beautiful earrings. They are silver with little 'S's' engraved on them that stand out because of the pink outlining in them. They are in the shape of a heart and, I see as I now admire them, they have little lacey parts off the side that stand out. I bet Dylan would like them.

The only thing that was strange was that I have never had my ears pierced before. He said that my real birthday present was GETTING MY EARS PIERCED! I have wanted this for so long! I'm so excited! I wonder if Dylan will notice. . . Shoot. There are footsteps that are stopping right outside my door. I was asleep, if anyone asks you.

Good night!

The girl who will get her ears pierced (!); Sacha D


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Dylan**

Dylan woke up at exactly 12:14 pm. He noted the time then yawned. Slowly he stretched his arms out and pushed the cover off of his pajamaed body before he got up.

"Good morning, Ma, Pa. I'm up" he called as he lumbered noisily down the stairs, still waking up. He tripped down the stairs and rubbed his eyes. _Why was he so sleepy_? He tried to remember last night.

Then it came back to him in a flash. He remembered being at a party in a large house. Timothy's house, he remembered. His head hurt and he rubbed it subconsciously as he sat at the kitchen table and tried to remember what else happened last night.

He recalled that he met lots of new freshmen that were going to enter high school in the following year. It must have been the welcoming party that they throw every year. He had been invited two years ago as he was an incoming freshman. He had also been invited the year before by some juniors who had left the party early, drunk. They didn't know that he wasn't old enough to go. They were completely wasted.

So he had walked over to where loud music and delighted, girly, screams were coming from. When he saw many people that he knew he would see as he entered high school a few years from then.

Dylan then stood up, grabbed a frozen waffle, and popped it into the toaster.

"Hey, Ma" Dylan's voice echoed throughout the house, "Hello? Dad? Where are you guys?"

The toaster popped up and Dylan jumped. Why was he so nervous? What could hurt him when he was here? Anyways, he knew he was fit and he could overpower almost anyone in the state he was in. While working as a lifeguard, he got into very good shape.

Working as a lifeguard had its perks for sure. He got into good shape, as stated before. Also, he got a tan that was to die for, he thought. Plus, the money was great for spending. Other things included being on the beach nearly every day, saving people, and meeting tourists and locals alike.

Dylan loved to meet people. He met girls who completely fawned over him, and their boyfriends glowering at me. That was always sad. He hated it when he had to let girls down. It wasn't his fault. It was just the way he was.

"Mom? Please answer me. Mom?" Dylan was worried now. "Mom? Please, MOM?"

There was a grunt then a call from his parents' bedroom.

"What is it?" He heard his mother's voice call to him, sleepily. "What's the problem, honey?" so quickly her tone noticeably changed from drowsy to alert and worried.

He responded quickly, "Nothing . . . sorry" he grumbled the last part and wondered why he was being so paranoid.

He then saw her in the doorway and smiled. He hadn't realized that he would be so troubled about her; he hardly even needed her at all anymore.

Anymore. But, as every only child, he had been spoiled rotten when he was younger, and ridiculed because of it. He was the only kid that had an indoor pool, the only kid who had a phone at third grade, and many other things. The other kids made fun of him, but the whole time he could tell that they were jealous. Little did they know then that he was much more different than what even crossed their minds at the time.

"Bye. Um . . . I'm going out. Bye" he said this as grabbing a bag, but Dylan's mom was already back to doing the laundry.

Once he was out of the house, he realized how stuffy it had been in there. Dylan knew that he may have had more than his share of drinks last night, so that's why he felt so crappy. Outside, Dylan felt that he could think much more clearly. He knew he should probably walk over to Timothy's to help him clean up the house, but what he really wanted to do was go over to the Doven's house. But this was silly.

The only reason to go over and see the Dovens' would be to see Lucas, and he would probably be at work anyways.

So he began to walk to the beach.

Once he was there, he sat down and stared out into the waves. They always had a calming rhythm that helped him think clearly.

So he daydreamed, sitting there on the rough yellow sand, staring out at the deep blue waves that reached out with white foam fingers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Stephen**

I woke up that morning and looked out the window. It was a bright, sunny day. It would be the perfect day for Sacha's birthday. I knew that this day would be big for her; it was the first time that she got to choose where she got to go for her birthday. She chose a nicer beach than Santa Cruz, one that was farther away.

I couldn't find that much of a difference between the two beaches, but if the 'nicer beach' was what Sacha wanted, then he wanted her to be happy at all costs.

That was the way I want her to be all of the time. Happy. Because when she was happy, she was beautiful. I knew that she was crushing on Dylan Cleever. He would have known that even if she hadn't told him. He could read her well. She was like an open book to him, and he knew her emotions and how to act just by the way she sounded on the phone.

This was not even necessary, though, because we have made a pact to tell each other everything. And we had each kept their promise, mostly. She was honest with me always, telling me even her darkest secrets. It was nice to have someone to confide in with every little thing that crosses your mind, someone that would never judge you. I would never judge her, no matter how silly or transient the feeling or secret may be. I couldn't.

And that is what I fail to tell her, every time I try. I couldn't judge her, even if I wanted to. Because I love her. I'm not quite sure when the realization dawned on me. I think I have known for a long time, but just now have come to terms with it. I have only recently been able to say what I need into words, but only to the mirror. I know if I tell anyone I will be laughed at.

Not because there is anything wrong with Sacha, but because there is something wrong with me. I have always been the 'guy who is too smart' or the 'tech geek'. I hear there is one in every school. Other 'normal' people don't know how degrading it is to be 'that guy' or, I suppose, 'that girl'.

So I am the 'tech geek'. If I told anyone, I would be just another guy who is crushing on beautiful Sacha. Sacha is everything any guy could want. She is open, friendly, joking, sweet, and completely and utterly gorgeous.

And she doesn't even know it. She is ignorant of her awe-inspiring presence that sends every guy around gaga. She is unaware that her existence sends every guy around absolutely loopy over her.

And how am I any different? For days on end, I search for the answer with no avail.

I have nothing to do now, Charlie (my brother who is older than me by five years, dropped out of college and now has a great job that pays the rent for the house that him and his fiancé live in) is coming tonight with Elizabeth (his fiancé). That will be exciting. Charlie is always so nice to be around. He has a great personality and I can tell him really anything. If he weren't my brother, he would be my best friend.

He is the only other living soul that knows about my long-standing crush on Sacha. He knew even before I knew. He could see that I am ashamed of being so smart, and he can see that I wish I were more 'loveable'. He could see that I envy Dylan for his good looks and personality that positively attracts girls like honey to a fly.

Dylan would be the perfect guy for Sacha, if life were a movie. But then again, he would be the perfect guy for any and every girl if life were a movie. But as life isn't staged, I think she could do better. She deserves better than any guy that is out there.

Because I know that there is something that Dylan is hiding, a secret that he is pressed to tell.

Anyways, because Charlie is coming and it is the day after Sacha's birthday, I should probably invite her over. Then wrap her present. I hope she will like it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Sacha**

Thursday 4: 38

Just got a call and was invited over to Stephen's house for dinner! Not like this is unusual, but it will be special because it is my 'birthday' dinner with them and Charlie will be there. Charlie lives . . . somewhere . . . far away. I should probably know where, but I don't. So there. What should I wear? I could wear the new pink dress I got with hearts on it; I look good, am comfy, and it's new (as stated before)!

Charlie is like my other older brother. Stephen is closer than a brother. Sometimes Jessica and my other friends tease me about us being a couple, and Stephen always blushes bright red as I laugh it off. They all know I already have a crush! (Ha ha, they don't know who it is though! Only Stephen knows that.)

I have to leave for their house in about five minutes; I think I will just walk. In that case, I will go put the dress on and get ready. SO EXCITED!

Until later,

Excited girl, Sacha Doven

The day after yesterday, Thursday 9:28

After the dinner, Stephen asked if I wanted to come over for a sleepover, and that he had something to give me. We had made a pact years ago that neither one of us would give each other gifts, ever, but every time we break it. It isn't expected, and that's what makes the gift that much sweeter.

So now I am packing my stuff up to sleep over, but I know I don't need much. I think I'm just going to bring a sleeper and go.

I'm going to change into a more comfortable tee-shirt and jeans for now, I can also wear that for tomorrow. Also, jeans have pockets so I can carry my phone in case of any emergencies. Not that there would be any, but it is always nice to have something to keep for security.

(Carrying a purse around is cute for a date (or so I have heard) or for a special occasion, but they get lost easily and if you carry one around for a while, you will agree with me that they are not very practical. Especially if you don't have any money to keep in your wallet. Like me. Oops. Ha ha.)

Charlie is going to stay in his room at their house! It was so nice to see him! He gave me a gift too, even though I said that he shouldn't have. He bought me some earrings that were purple and pink bows. They are so cute and I suspect planning from Lucas and Charlie. This is special because aren't what you would call the greatest of friends.

They get along fine together, but they have almost nothing in common. Charlie is getting married; Lucas has never had a girlfriend. Charlie is a drop-out of college (I hate to say that, it doesn't seem to fit Charlie), Lucas will probably end up being valedictorian and also win an award and be on the front of a magazine for some mathematical equation he figures out or some video game he beats. These are just some of the differences. Lucas and Charlie are about as different as can be, and it's funny, because Lucas is most like Stephen and Charlie is more like me. Sometimes I wonder if Lucas and Charlie were somehow mixed up at birth, even though there is no way that could be possible.

Charlie looks a whole lot like Stephen, with curly blonde hair and deep blue eyes framed with long dark eyelashes, but that is about where the similarities stop. Even so, Stephen and Charlie would probably be best friends if they weren't brothers; they have a harmony where they understand each other like I have seen from no other human. It's amazing.

Charlie is a lot like me in some ways, I suppose. We both don't like school, but do fine in it (passing in all classes easily but never enjoying it or being the top), we have the same interest in books (in a way, the books that I do read are like his, but normally I just don't read. I like magazines best), and many other things. I will probably end up a lot like him in my future. We will probably end up having flipped versions of the same thing happening to us.

He (Charlie) brought his fianceé, Elizabeth, with him and she ate dinner with us. I like her. She is really pretty, but in a down-to-earth kind of way. She wore absolutely no makeup, and her hair looked like it had been air-dried. She had a pretty color of blue polish on her nails that she said changed when it was in the sun, and her face was covered in freckles from days out under the sun. (I do admit that I am extremely jealous of her.)

Needless to say, Charlie seems very happy, and therefore I am happy for him, I guess. It will be hard to let him go, he was always there for me when I needed someone to talk to. I never really appreciated how he has always been there, like an older brother. And now he's leaving, and I don't even get to tell him thanks because he is so caught up in his carefree love for his soon-to-be-wife. I suppose I should be happy for him, because he deserves a good life, married to someone who he loves, but I don't know how I will let him go.

But there is something that worries me. He said that after their wedding and after the honeymoon, they will probably move out of the state. Good for them, I thought at the time, but now I am even more anxious. I am not worried for them, but for me. Charlie is the person I know that has the most experience with love. Lucas is kind of hopeless, and who else would I talk to that I trust with all of my secrets except for Stephen, who is in the same situation as me. My parents? Not in a million years. I will have to get their address so that I can send them mail and email them. And their phone number for emergencies. Oh, gosh! I need all their information, like, now!

So with bag under-hand,

Sacha Doven

Guess what day. Yea, you're right. It's Thursday again. 12:51

I probably freaked out a little bit too much earlier, because I almost literally ran to Stephen's house. When I arrived, I was red-faced and panting. I threw my small bag at the white front door and ran up the stairs to Charlie's old room and banged on the door.

"Charlie? Open up! Please?"

I heard nothing from the door, but laughing from downstairs. "Chill, Sacha. I'm right down here. What is it?"

I ran downstairs in a hurry and grabbed a pen and paper. Quickly I explained that I needed his phone number, email address, address, and other information before he moved away. When I was done I sat down and waited as patiently as I could, sitting in the chair beside him.

Apparently that wasn't very patient because when he didn't grab the pen immediately, I shoved it into his hand and put his hand down on the paper. "You can write it here, you know. That's why I got the paper:" I said this sweetly and demandingly. Then I smiled.

He laughed a booming laugh and looked at Elizabeth. She was smiling, too, and it seemed as if she were trying to hold back laughter. "Sacha" Charlie's voice sounded like he was talking to someone crazy, or like he was a therapist. "We aren't going to move away for a long time." He assured me.

Elizabeth had grabbed the paper and pencil from Charlie while he was talking and was now writing in small, neat letters. I bit my lip to hold back tears of the thought that they were leaving, and that Charlie, my Charlie who was always there for me, was moving away to live forever with this calm, sweet girl. I knew I shouldn't be sad, because I could see how perfect they were. "But here is our email addresses and phone number. This is my cell." She pointed to a long list of numbers she had written on the paper, "You can call me at any time." She smiled at me encouragingly, and I looked down, still biting my lip. I could taste blood.

After that I swallowed and explained why I was in such a rush and apologized for my rash behavior.

Both Charlie and Elizabeth laughed in perfect harmony, with Stephen now standing behind me, his hands on the back of my chair, smiling. He had a look on his face that told me that he had seen enough of the episode to know what was going on. I tried to be sneaky when I wiped my eyes, and I'm pretty sure nobody saw.

Right then, his parents were just walking into the kitchen. I realized that I was a part of that family and so was Elizabeth. We both fit like pieces to a puzzle. So I shoved the paper into my jean pocket and my face blushed red on top of what how red it was from my running.

"Now . . . I exit" I tried to make a graceful and lighthearted exit that every teenage girl would make after a very embarrassing incident, but I didn't have much experience in that, so I grabbed Stephen by the hand and dragged him up the stairs to his room. I told him not to say a word about that incident and he waved it off, but I could tell he was choking back laughter.

He held his other hand out to me, and in it I saw a small box wrapped in blue shiny paper. It had a bow on top with a card that said clearly 'Sacha' in Stephen's handwriting. He gave it to me and I thanked him, telling him thank you and how good of a friend he was –

"Just open the damn gift, Sacha." He said in an 'oh-so-loving' way. No, but really, he was sweet about it, and I think he was just excited to see my face when I saw what it was.

I skipped the card and went straight to the gift. It was in a small gold jewelry box. Inside I saw the most beautiful charm bracelet that I have ever seen in my life.

It was on a silver and gold alternating chain. It had a large 'S' on the first charm I examined. The "S" was engraved onto an irregularly shaped, polished, turquoise rock. Beside the 'S', on both sides, were hearts. The hearts were gold-colored. One of them had a checkerboard pattern on it, and the other was polka-dotted with silver. It was delicate, yet I felt like it wouldn't break. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, as well as the most precious gift I had ever received.

When I looked up again there were tears in my eyes.

"I could return it if you don't like it. It's real gold so that you can wear it in the ocean, but if you don't like it I can get them to melt it to make it into something else-"

I cut him off with a hug. After a moment he hugged me back. "I love it. You couldn't have found anything more perfect. Thank you." By this time there were tears of joy streaming down my face and into my mouth that was now open with a huge smile. My tears were wetting his gray cotton 'Star Trek' t-shirt. I relaxed against him and rested my head against his shoulder.

Right now I'm wearing it; it feels comfortable on my wrist, like it was meant to be there.

To be continued,

Your loving author, Sacha Doven


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Dylan**

Dylan sat on the beach, watching the waves until lunchtime, when he bought a burrito at a small Mexican take-out shop on the side of the beach. The girl working there, Chelsea, knew him well and already knew what Dylan would order even before he walked through the door. She was already preparing the food for him when he walked up.

Chelsea smoothed her hair down and leaned against the counter as soon as she was done, pushing the burrito and drink across the table at the same time that Dylan pushed the money across the table, exact change. It was a slow day for business. There was only one other person in the restaurant, and he was drinking a beverage that couldn't be good for his health. Chelsea looked exasperated, but perked up when Dylan came in. "Hey, you" she said flirtatiously as always, tracing her finger against the laminate countertop subconsciously.

Dylan smiled at her, and her pattern of figure-eights on the counter that she was drawing with her finger faltered, then picked up again, a little bit faster. Dylan noticed this and began talking. "Hi, Chelsea. How's your day been?" He didn't really care, but he knew he enjoyed watching her finger speed up faster, as it always did when he talked to her or smiled at her.

Chelsea took a moment before she answered, seemingly choosing her words carefully. She always seemed like she was afraid of saying something wrong. To someone who didn't know her, she would seem like she was dumb, but Dylan had spent enough time around her to know that she actually was very smart.

"Boring, until you came." She bit her lip and looked down at Dylan's fire-engine red tee shirt. It was thin, and it clung to his muscled arms, while still hanging loosely off of his shoulders. Chelsea did notice, though, how it showed off his muscled chest. She had seen him once when his shirt was off, and now every time she saw him she was looking to see if you could notice the six-pack or the muscled panes of his chest through his shirt. Many times you could. She wondered if this was accident, that he looked good in every shirt or if he chose the shirt because it looked like that.

Chelsea looked down at the countertop then back at Dylan's face. "I mean, there has been, like, no business today". She said it as if she didn't care what she did at work.

Dylan always noticed how she dropped hints that told him that she enjoyed his company. He knew it was more than for something to do on a hot, stuffy day down by the beach where nobody ever ate. Dylan had wondered why Chelsea still worked in this hole-in-the-wall, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with his frequent visits.

And his frequent visits definitely had something to do with Chelsea being there, she always gave him a free drink when nobody was there to watch, which there never was. So Dylan often got a free drink.

"Hey, sweetheart," the drunk man at the bar that was watching a soccer game in Spanish called out to her loudly. Chelsea visibly winced. "I wan another drink. Just like the last. You make 'em real good, Senorita" his words were slurred together as he smiled a toothy grin.

Chelsea looked apologetically at Dylan then walked to behind the bar and began mixing colorful alcohol and flavorings together, then pouring it over ice. Dylan was fascinated by how she made it so easily. She wasn't old enough to drink, so she probably wasn't old enough to be a bartender either, but for the police it was a don't-ask don't-tell compromise as long as they got free drinks.

She walked back to the cashier table where Dylan was as soon as the drink was done being mixed, and she didn't even turn back when the man yelled back at her, "Thanks honey!"

She rolled her eyes and sat down at the stool behind the cash register. They continued their conversation until Dylan finished his food. He politely excused himself and began to walk out the door.

"Damn! Damnit! The hell to this f–" Dylan looked to see that the drunk watching the television had spilled his drink all over himself, and was letting out a stream of curses. Dylan looked back worried, but Chelsea was already too preoccupied with making him another drink to see Dylan's apologetic look, so he hurried out the door.

Full, Dylan walked leisurely down the beach near the road towards his house. He looked up at the lowering sun, gauging the time. When he decided that it must be late afternoon, he sped up his pace and walked to the art gallery where Lucas worked. His shift would almost be over.

He got there right in time. Lucas was hanging up his uniform just as Dylan walked in.

"Were closed, you can't–"he turned around to see that it was Dylan that had walked in. "This is different" he smiled and ran his hand through his jet-black short hair. "This changes things"

He walked into the back room, and Dylan followed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Stephen**

Sacha came over for dinner. Charlie was there and so was Elizabeth. I thought it would be perfect.

And it was, for a while. Sacha came wearing a beautiful pink dress. When I first saw her at the door, I was again astonished by how beautiful she looked. She seems like she doesn't even know of her own beauty that stuns me every time I see her.

I thought that Sacha and Elizabeth would get along nicely, and to anyone outside they seemed like they did. But I know Sacha too well to know when she is faking something. For some reason that, for the life of me, I couldn't understand, Sacha didn't like Elizabeth and it had something to do with my older brother going away.

When Charlie announced that they would move out of the state after their honeymoon, her face flashed from startled to anger to sadness, all in a fraction of a second. At that moment I wanted to go over and comfort her, and tell her that everything would be okay, and that all of us would end up happy.

After dinner, I invited her to sleep over and whispered into her ear that I had something to give her. She looked mildly surprised and spoke back to me, "I would love to. That would be so much fun!" then she whispered into my ear, "but it's not because you got something for me. You aren't even supposed to get me anything!" she said this in faux anger. A smile twitched at the edge of her pink lips.

A few minutes after she left, there was a large slam of the door and loud footsteps running up the stairs. Only a few seconds later there was banging on the upstairs door and the call of "Charlie? Open up. Please?" from Sacha's sweet voice.

Downstairs Charlie laughed loudly and called to her. The next thing I heard was more rushed footsteps tramping down the stairs.

There was some commotion down in the kitchen, so I walked down the hall from the bathroom into the dining room where there was a ruckus occurring.

What I saw was Elizabeth writing down a row of numbers and assuring Sacha that she could be called whenever.

By this time, my parents were all in the room already and we were all laughing. I stood behind where Sacha was sitting. When I looked at her face I saw that she was flushed from probably running all the way here. As she saw that we were all here, her face blushed an even brighter red. I thought she looked cute.

"Now . . . I exit" she then stood up and sashayed towards me, grabbed my hand, and began to drag me upstairs. I was so excited that she was holding my hand! Her thin fingers held mine in a strong grip as she pulled me. I looked down to see her manicured pink fingernails had diamonds on them, probably a special thing for her birthday.

Once I was upstairs, I was reluctant to let go of the hand I always love to hold, but I knew I had to. I let her slender fingers out of my grasp.

"Don't you dare _ever_ bring that up" she said menacingly, but from her it just seemed sweet.

"I wouldn't dream of it" then I held out my hand that held the present in it.

She started reciting her annual speech on how I shouldn't have bought her anything and how it isn't necessary that I got her a present. "Just open the damn gift. You only turn fifteen once, do you really think that your _best_ friend would blow off getting you something? Come 'on, you should know me better than that." I said this with a smile and all but shoved the gift into her hand. I waited for her to open the small box that held what I had picked out specifically for her. It was a charm bracelet that I had specially ordered for her. It was pure gold and silver with many different designs and a turquoise engraved rock. Needless to say, I was really excited to see her open it.

She skipped straight to the gift. It was something we always did as kids, and now it was sort of a tradition.

When she saw what was inside, she gasped. After a moment of examination she looked up with tears in her eyes.

I was confused and hurt by her reaction. This was something I thought she would love! So I made up a lie to make her feel better about not liking it, "If you don't like it, I can return it. Its pure gold and silver, so you can wear it on in the ocean. But if it's not what you want, then I can just take it back and have them melt—"

She cut me off with a hug, her hands clutching my back. Her small arms wrapped around my chest and I hugged her back softly. I could feel a wet spot forming on the back of my shirt from her tears

"I love it. You couldn't have found anything more perfect. Thank you" on the last words she choked, the words caught in her throat. She rested her head on my shoulder and I relaxed into her. "Thank you" she repeated into my ear.

I looked out the window to the old oak tree that we had played under for so many summers before. The blue sky then seemed bluer, and the bright sun seemed brighter. At that moment, I could find nothing more perfect than right now. There was nothing more perfect than sitting there, on the ground, hugging the only girl I had ever loved.

If only she would love me back.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Sacha**

Ooh! It's the next day! Friday. 12:04

This morning was one you would see in a movie. It was one of those days, where the girl wakes up with the sun shining onto her face through the half-open blinds. When she looks at the clock, she sees the time is around ten. She smiles. Sweet music is playing in background.

Only this was more perfect, because it was real. I really did wake up at about ten with the sun streaming on my face through the partially open curtains. And there was sweet music playing in the background. When I first heard it, I couldn't tell what it was, but later I would recognize the song.

I heard the tune coming from the room beside the one in which I had slept in, so I walked over towards it. The door was open, and I walked in quietly to see Stephen sitting in his blue plaid boxers and a ratty sweatshirt – sleeves pulled up out of the way of his tan arms – playing an old beat-up acoustic guitar. He was really good, and after a moment he started singing along with the song.

The song was "Gravity" by John Mayer. As it was a beautiful song that I knew, I walked softly to Stephen. My stocking-covered feet made virtually no sound against the carpeted floor. He didn't notice that I was there, his eyes were closed and he sang more sweetly than I could have ever imagined from my modest friend. It seemed to take forever to finally make it across the room before I sat down on the ground.

Stephen sang,

"_Gravity_

_Is working against me_

_Whoa, and gravity_

_Wants to bring me down. . ."_

I joined in, harmonizing while adding my own the back-up part.

"_Oh, twice as much_

_And twice as good. . ."_

Stephen stopped and looked up in surprise. "I didn't mean to wake you" then he smiled apologetically.

I replied, "No, no worries. That was amazing. Where did you learn to play like that? Where did you get that guitar? How . . . how. . ." my voice trailed off. I stared into Stephens deep blue eyes that suddenly seemed mesmerizing.

He stared back at me and smiled again. "Sorry, again. I bought this guitar at the pawn shop that's on the way home from school. I looked up the chords online, and I'm really not that good." He blushed.

"Yea, you really _are_ that good. Honestly, it seems to come naturally to you" I said, impressed. It made him blush even more.

Then he proceeded to play another song that I almost immediately recognized as "Free Fallin'" by Tom Petty. "I have only been playing for two weeks" he said and looked down to the instrument he was strumming. "You see, I was wondering if you could sing along sometime. We could play for our friends. It could be a little concert" he said over the music. Then he laughed "Or maybe not. But all in fun, right?" He set the guitar down and walked across the room to his small desk that was painfully organized, especially compared to my mess that some call a desk. Ha ha. If you can even see it.

I sat down on his bed that he was sitting on just a moment ago as he shuffled through papers. I looked over the room that I knew as well as my own. I had memorized the "Star Trek" posters and the ripped out leaflets from magazines that he had posted onto his dark blue walls.

When he came back over, he handed me a sheet of creased binder paper with Stephen's neat handwriting crossed out and re-written on it.

"It's a song. I wrote it myself" he said. Then he explained that it was still in the making, and that it would be revised further.

As I read it, I became more and more impressed. A bit of it went like this:

'_But even though you know me_

_More than anyone else_

_You can't even imagine_

_How I feel_

_For you_

_Cuz'_

_You're the only one I love_

_You're the only one I need_

_It's hard for me not to know_

_Oh, do you love me too? '_

Enough said. He is a genius. I wonder who he wrote it for; he hasn't told me who he is crushing on. . .

Don't you just love the mystery? Bah-Duh!

Sacha Doven

Hmmm . . . Yep, still Friday 1:32

Breakfast was fine . . . kind of . . . well; actually I had a little bit of an episode . . . Sigh, Elizabeth . . .

But after that I went home. How exciting.

No, but really, it was kind of because Stephen said that he could come to the beach with me at about 2 o'clock. I invited Jessica, Amber, and Taylor to come with us, but all of them said no.

I really hope that Dylan will be there lifeguarding, because I have a plan to talk to him. That sounded more pathetic than it really is. Because it's really not that pathetic. I am going to ask him to come to the movies with Amber, Jessica, and Stephen (Jessica is busy, again, like always) and me, of course.

I honestly don't care what movie we watch, so I will leave that up to the others.

But, of course, I shouldn't count my chickens before they hatch, because I don't even know if I will see him today or if he will be able to come.

I shouldn't get my hopes up. He will probably not be there today, or be busy, or not be able to come. Or, worst of all, he may not want to come.

Now I'm depressed. I should get ready now in order to get excited. And less depressed.

For now,

Sacha

Later in the same day, so, it would be. . . Friday. 3:18

At the beach in another of my new and ultra-cute bikinis. Getting an amazing tan. Dylan just arrived about twenty minutes ago for the beginning of his shift. The stand has already attracted many girls who, no doubt, were already crushing and flirting with him. They are all like little seagulls; drawn to the 'food' that is Dylan. Yummy.

And, I am full of sophisticated-ness while waiting down here with my journal, drawing and writing. When should I go up to talk him? I need to make a memorable impression. So that I stick out to him. That's what a memorable impression is. Wow. Ignore that ranting. . .

How can I make an impression that he will remember me by? Should I just wait until the other girls go away (if they ever do)? Or should I meet him in the parking lot? Or should I go up now? So many questions that I don't have the answer to! Ugggghhh!

Stephen is now looking at me funny because I just started writing so hard that the paper is ripping. I should put this down because it's frustrating me.

Bye for now!

S. D.

I 3 DYLAN!

Yes, it is still Friday. 3:47

The other girls are now leaving (rawr, one by one, )! It is the perfect time to go up and talk to Dylan.

Gosh, he is _so _gorgeous, just sitting up there. His red swim shorts show off his defined, muscled legs. His abs are perfectly formed and distinct. His strong arm muscles ripple as he just moved to lay back and put on his sunglasses. He is _so_ completely dazzling.

All of the girls are gone now!

Heart thumping, I leave you now,

SACHA!

Did you really think that I would leave you without saying what happened? I thought you knew me better! That means it's still Friday. 3:57

**DOCUMENTING:**

I walked over there and talked to him! I get butterflies in my stomach even thinking of it.

Stephen walked beside me for moral support. It was a good thing that he was there, too, for several reasons. One of them was because I almost ran back to the towel when I was about halfway to the lifeguard stand. If Stephen hadn't been there to (literally) drag me back towards where I was going, I would have never made it.

Once I was there, the conversation went a bit like this:

"Hey Dylan"

"Hey. How's it going, Sacha? How's your brother?" this last question surprised me, but I answered it quickly, surprising even myself. Stephen looked back at me and raised his eyebrows. This question was not expected or accounted for in our script.

"Good. I'm great, actually. My brother, well Ryan is just fine, I guess, and Lucas is just dandy" then I smiled. (How did I just say dandy? Nobody says dandy these days! Even so, Stephen looked impressed.) "I was wondering if . . . if. . ." I stammered, and this is where things went wrong. I forgot what I was going to say, and then I hiccupped. Honestly, I hiccupped. Then my face turned bright red and I wanted to run away like a little girl would.

This is when Stephen came in handy for the second time (what is with the rhyming? Handy and dandy? I have something wrong with my brain. . .). He put his hand on my shoulder, thankfully, saving me from running in fear. He finished my sentence for me, "Sacha wants to know if you want to come to the movies with us" his voice hitched for only a moment, then he continued. Dylan didn't seem to notice. "Us meaning me, Sacha, Amber, and Taylor."

Dylan looked at Stephen, then at me and my still-blushing face. "Why don't you invite Lucas?"

_WHY DID HE CARE? Whatever_, I thought to myself. Boys can be so weird sometimes. "Sure, sure. He can come. We were thinking of the movie 300 Days of Dating at about noon-ish tomorrow. It's supposed to be both romantic and scary" I silently laughed to myself. Tomorrow was going to be the third time I would see it. But the movie wasn't what I was excited about. "Please come. It . . . it would mean a whole bunch to me" at this, I smiled up at him, waiting for his response. He smiled back at me and I blushed as red as a tomato (on top of my last blush, would that make it purple? Ha ha. I really hope not. Oh, my. Was it purple? Now I'm blushing, so maybe I will be able to tell now. In the mirror, it looks like it's just slightly pink, so it probably wasn't purple, anyways . . .) so I looked down.

"I would love to" Dylan responded to me with his super-sexy sounding voice. "When? Wait, I should just get your number. Sacha?"

I looked up, and I'm sure my face was still beet-red, but I had recovered enough to answer him. Then I told him my number, and he took out his phone and saved it.

"I'll text you when I get the chance. Thanks so much. Goodbye, Sacha" He nodded me off, and I walked back to my towel, acting loopy. He sounded so sweet when he said goodbye to me. It seemed like such a nice thing to say. Everybody said 'bye' these days. I sound silly, commenting on his every word. He is just so cute! _SIGH. . ._

When I got back, I looked at Stephen and he looked down, avoiding my eyes. "Good job" he said after a moment, and then he looked up. "I'm proud of you" he said, but the words sounded rehearsed and mechanical. I decided to let it go and just thank him.

"You are my hero. Thank you so much!" then I hugged him, which, in hindsight, was probably not the best action for me when I just asked out my soon-to-be-boyfriend (hopefully) (Dylan), but hey, I needed to give my best friend a hug, and what is so wrong with that?

For now,

Sacha Doven

It's Friday! Still. 5:29

Home now. Still excited about what happened at the beach earlier. I am trying to forget what happened with my hiccupping and the blushing and the . . . this is making me remember! Get out of my head! Now I'm blushing . . . darn.

Dylan hasn't texted me yet, but I guess that is sort of to be expected, anyways the movie is not until tomorrow at around lunch time so we can hit the food court before, so it will be no worries if he doesn't text me until later. It should almost be expected. Even so, I still am keeping my phone near me at all times so that I will get his message right as it comes in.

STOP THE MADNESS! (I should probably say paranoia, but whatever). Have nothing else to write.

So . . . yea.

SO LONG, SUCKAS!

Sacha

Yeah, yeah, it's still Friday. 5:43.

I have still not received any texts or calls. Or any other type of communication from Dylan. Please don't comment on my impatience. I know. . . I have no patience. At all. . At all. I should do something.

Suuummmtttthhhhiiiinnnnggggg. But what?

Excuse my strange moments when I adding extra letters to words. And repeating words (words, words). I have nothing to say.

I should stop wasting time.

But I have nothing else to do . . .

I will go. That I am resolved on as of now. Goodbye!

S D

Mmmmm hmmmm. Yea, it's still Friday. 6:07.

See how long I waited? It was. . . ummm. . . 24 minutes. I think. That is some patience! Because if you round 24 minutes up, then you can call it 25 minutes. You can call 25 minutes about 30 minutes, which is half of an hour, which sounds like a long time. Because it is. A long time, I mean. I love rounding sometimes.

I just thought I would share with the world something. No, I take that back. I needed to share something with the world of my private diary. Here goes.

**I 3 DYLAN!**

I have shared.

Sacha D

It's still Friday. 6:21

I GOT A TEXT! Dylan finally texted me, and I will quote it for you. It said: "thx 4 inviting me 2 th movie. i wud luv 2 cum, c u 2morrow. Dylan".

He is coming! For sure! This is exactly what I wanted! I couldn't be any happier than I am now. He said yes. I am still in shock. I am sitting on my pink bedcovers with the phone in my hand open to the text that confirms that he will go to the movies with me tomorrow.

Now I need to find the perfect outfit that says that I am cute without trying to be. It must say that I go to movies with really hot surfer guys all of the time. I also can't be too hot or cold when I am in the theater, so put that in the records.

Would a dress be too formal? A tee-shirt too casual? Would sneakers be cute to him, giving off the 'sporty-yet-casual' look? So many questions!

Calling Stephen to ask–bye for now!

SD


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Dylan**

Dylan woke up on Friday morning in a good mood. It was late, and his blanket was on the floor. He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, then laid back down and thought about the day that was ahead of him. He had work later, but that was all. Nothing special.

Only work. _This will be a good, good, day, _thought Dylan as he sat up again. He sat up again and stepped out of bed and took the five big steps it took to cross his room to the door.

He didn't know why, but he knew that today would be good, that everything would go right. Last time he had a day that felt like that, he found a fifty-dollar bill on the ground of the grocery store. Absentmindedly, Dylan wondered if he would have the same luck if he went to Safeway again. Then he laughed to himself. That was silly. Anyways, he would be paid doing one of the things he loves, hanging out at the beach. What could be better than that?

He opened the door and put some toast in the toaster. On the refrigerator was a note from his mom saying that she was out taking extra shifts at The Coffeehouse. That was fine. Dylan ate his toast with some jam, got dressed, and then left for the beach.

The lifeguard that had the shift before him was named Brian. He looked impatient and kept checking his watch. He looked relieved when he saw that Dylan was there, and walked away to his car like the ground was hot coals, without even saying goodbye.

Dylan was fine with that. Brian was much older than him, and he wasn't that cool. He wouldn't be a friend of Dylan's if they were the same age. He was too stuck-up and full of himself.

Once Dylan got up the ladder, he pulled out his beach chair that was hidden in the shack that was up there. The Shack was completely metal and burning hot on the inside, and you were crazy if you thought you were going to stay in there. But the roof was flat, and solid, so Dylan always took the beach chair and a towel up there so he could still watch out and be in the sun. You would be crazy to try anything else during the summer months. But Dylan had always wondered if he would get into trouble if he put an air-conditioning system and refrigerator in the shack. The managers never check anyways . . .

As soon as he was settled, a few of the single girls started walking over to talk to him. It started with a group, probably on a dare, but they all wanted to come, then more people started coming. Dylan knew very few of them, but it was kind of nice, he was never bored on the job.

After a while, Sacha Doven, the sister of Lucas Doven, came up to talk to Dylan. She hadn't done that before, and Dylan was surprised. She walked up with her friend Stephen. He didn't really know Stephen, and all he knew was that he was a geek, but if he hung out with Sacha, then Dylan thought that it must be fine. He knew he had to be nice to Sacha because she was the sister of Lucas, and siblings are always important for relationships._ You always have to start out on the right foot, of everybody _Dylan thought to himself. He smiled down at her from the stand and saw that she was smiling back at him shyly. Next to her was Stephen.

Sacha began to speak, and she stuttered a bit, and then cleared her throat. "Hey, Dylan." She looked at Stephen, then back up at Dylan as he responded.

"Hey. How's your brother?"

Sacha stood for there for a moment, probably surprised that he would ask that. Then she listed of that they were fine. Dylan wondered why he had asked that, but it seemed like it was fine. He scanned the beach quickly, and then looked down. Sacha was looking up at him.

"Would you . . . would you . . ." she stopped and looked at Stephen for a moment.

Stephen looked up at Dylan and finished her sentence for her with a rough voice, "She wants to ask you to come to the movies with us. Us, meaning me, Sacha, Amber, Jessica, and Taylor. She wants to see 300 Days of Dating." He shook his head almost imperceptibly, then looked up smiling carefully. He almost looked disbelieving at the choice of move, thought Dylan, but then he forgot that a moment later when Sacha started talking again.

"I was thinking tomorrow at the mall theater." She looked up at Dylan at the exact same time that Stephen did. Dylan noticed both of their expecting faces, Sacha's hopeful and Stephen's hiding something. Dylan couldn't figure out what, and he liked that. He decided he might go to the movies with them.

"Why don't you invite Lucas?" Dylan asked on a snap-decision, and then he smiled at his ingenuity.

Sacha looked surprised, but answered quickly none the less. "Sure. He's invited. Sure he is."

_Cool!_ Dylan thought to himself, smiling inwardly. He would be able to hang out with Lucas for a while as well as build a friendship with Sacha. He scanned across the beach again then looked down. Sacha was blabbing on about the movie, ". . . supposed to be good, I don't know. We'll see, right?"

Dylan nodded and got her phone number, promising to text her once he knew if he could come. Then Sacha and Stephen looked away. Stephen looked back towards him vacantly after they left, and after he saw Dylan looking, he looked away quickly.

The rest of the job was uneventful for Dylan. Flustered girls constantly swarmed Dylan with mindless chatter, but nothing that he cared about. They left him alone as soon as he got into his car. He had taken it today on account of running late. He drove straight to the art gallery and waited for Lucas to close up. Once Lucas was done, they began talking and walking down to their favorite coffee shop. Lucas ordered a coffee, and Dylan ordered a chocolate Frappuccino. He told Lucas about what Sacha had said, and he said he would go. Dylan sent Sacha a quick text confirming it.

Then both of them left the small, fragrant coffee shop. Bells rang as they left, announcing the opening door. They both talked for what seemed like forever until they reached Dylan's car. It was an old Toyota Avalon. Dylan tried to think back to what he and Lucas had said, but he couldn't remember; he was so preoccupied. _I am so lucky to know Lucas, _he thought to himself as he pulled out of the parking spot he was in and drove around the block and into an abandoned parking lot.

Then he looked at Lucas, and he stared deep into his brown eyes. Lucas reached out to Dylan and carefully moved a thick lock of blonde hair off of Dylan's forehead . . .


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8: Dylan**

Dylan woke up on Friday morning in a good mood. It was late, and his blanket was on the floor. He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, then laid back down and thought about the day that was ahead of him. He had work later, but that was all. Nothing special.

Only work. _This will be a good, good, day, _thought Dylan as he sat up again. He sat up again and stepped out of bed and took the five big steps it took to cross his room to the door.

He didn't know why, but he knew that today would be good, that everything would go right. Last time he had a day that felt like that, he found a fifty-dollar bill on the ground of the grocery store. Absentmindedly, Dylan wondered if he would have the same luck if he went to Safeway again. Then he laughed to himself. That was silly. Anyways, he would be paid doing one of the things he loves, hanging out at the beach. What could be better than that?

He opened the door and put some toast in the toaster. On the refrigerator was a note from his mom saying that she was out taking extra shifts at The Coffeehouse. That was fine. Dylan ate his toast with some jam, got dressed, and then left for the beach.

The lifeguard that had the shift before him was named Brian. He looked impatient and kept checking his watch. He looked relieved when he saw that Dylan was there, and walked away to his car like the ground was hot coals, without even saying goodbye.

Dylan was fine with that. Brian was much older than him, and he wasn't that cool. He wouldn't be a friend of Dylan's if they were the same age. He was too stuck-up and full of himself.

Once Dylan got up the ladder, he pulled out his beach chair that was hidden in the shack that was up there. The Shack was completely metal and burning hot on the inside, and you were crazy if you thought you were going to stay in there. But the roof was flat, and solid, so Dylan always took the beach chair and a towel up there so he could still watch out and be in the sun. You would be crazy to try anything else during the summer months. But Dylan had always wondered if he would get into trouble if he put an air-conditioning system and refrigerator in the shack. The managers never check anyways . . .

As soon as he was settled, a few of the single girls started walking over to talk to him. It started with a group, probably on a dare, but they all wanted to come, then more people started coming. Dylan knew very few of them, but it was kind of nice, he was never bored on the job.

After a while, Sacha Doven, the sister of Lucas Doven, came up to talk to Dylan. She hadn't done that before, and Dylan was surprised. She walked up with her friend Stephen. He didn't really know Stephen, and all he knew was that he was a geek, but if he hung out with Sacha, then Dylan thought that it must be fine. He knew he had to be nice to Sacha because she was the sister of Lucas, and siblings are always important for relationships._ You always have to start out on the right foot, of everybody _Dylan thought to himself. He smiled down at her from the stand and saw that she was smiling back at him shyly. Next to her was Stephen.

Sacha began to speak, and she stuttered a bit, and then cleared her throat. "Hey, Dylan." She looked at Stephen, then back up at Dylan as he responded.

"Hey. How's your brother?"

Sacha stood for there for a moment, probably surprised that he would ask that. Then she listed of that they were fine. Dylan wondered why he had asked that, but it seemed like it was fine. He scanned the beach quickly, and then looked down. Sacha was looking up at him.

"Would you . . . would you . . ." she stopped and looked at Stephen for a moment.

Stephen looked up at Dylan and finished her sentence for her with a rough voice, "She wants to ask you to come to the movies with us. Us, meaning me, Sacha, Amber, Jessica, and Taylor. She wants to see 300 Days of Dating." He shook his head almost imperceptibly, then looked up smiling carefully. He almost looked disbelieving at the choice of move, thought Dylan, but then he forgot that a moment later when Sacha started talking again.

"I was thinking tomorrow at the mall theater." She looked up at Dylan at the exact same time that Stephen did. Dylan noticed both of their expecting faces, Sacha's hopeful and Stephen's hiding something. Dylan couldn't figure out what, and he liked that. He decided he might go to the movies with them.

"Why don't you invite Lucas?" Dylan asked on a snap-decision, and then he smiled at his ingenuity.

Sacha looked surprised, but answered quickly none the less. "Sure. He's invited. Sure he is."

_Cool!_ Dylan thought to himself, smiling inwardly. He would be able to hang out with Lucas for a while as well as build a friendship with Sacha. He scanned across the beach again then looked down. Sacha was blabbing on about the movie, ". . . supposed to be good, I don't know. We'll see, right?"

Dylan nodded and got her phone number, promising to text her once he knew if he could come. Then Sacha and Stephen looked away. Stephen looked back towards him vacantly after they left, and after he saw Dylan looking, he looked away quickly.

The rest of the job was uneventful for Dylan. Flustered girls constantly swarmed Dylan with mindless chatter, but nothing that he cared about. They left him alone as soon as he got into his car. He had taken it today on account of running late. He drove straight to the art gallery and waited for Lucas to close up. Once Lucas was done, they began talking and walking down to their favorite coffee shop. Lucas ordered a coffee, and Dylan ordered a chocolate Frappuccino. He told Lucas about what Sacha had said, and he said he would go. Dylan sent Sacha a quick text confirming it.

Then both of them left the small, fragrant coffee shop. Bells rang as they left, announcing the opening door. They both talked for what seemed like forever until they reached Dylan's car. It was an old Toyota Avalon. Dylan tried to think back to what he and Lucas had said, but he couldn't remember; he was so preoccupied. _I am so lucky to know Lucas, _he thought to himself as he pulled out of the parking spot he was in and drove around the block and into an abandoned parking lot.

Then he looked at Lucas, and he stared deep into his brown eyes. Lucas reached out to Dylan and carefully moved a thick lock of blonde hair off of Dylan's forehead . . .


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Stephen**

It is always sad when the perfect moment has to end. It is even sadder when the perfect moment almost seems to blend in to one of the longest and worst days of my life. How do people say TGIF when Friday became the worst day in my young life (so far)?

It didn't start off badly. In fact, it started off pretty well. I woke up and began to play my guitar, as I have been doing many mornings recently. It starts off the day well. Anyways, aware of Sacha sleeping on an air mattress on my floor (that is where she always sleeps, the mattress is nearly permanently blown-up in the closet across from my room) of my room, I moved to the guest room that is right beside my own. With luck, it wouldn't wake Sacha up.

Soon after I started, Elizabeth knocked on the doorframe and walked into the room smiling.

"I didn't know you played" she looked down at the guitar questioningly. Quickly I looked to the room where Sacha was sleeping, hoping that she hadn't woken up. "She's sleeping like a log," Elizabeth informed me, to my relief, "The door's still open, but she is dead to the world" she smiled and laughed.

I laughed along with her. "She usually does. Nothing can wake her, and I figured I would be safe in here. But I still worry…" I realized I sounded like I cared too much about her, so, from reflex, I added, "I mean, I guess she needs her beauty sleep. I wouldn't know. Whatever, right?" here I realized that I sounded like an idiot, so I changed the subject. "Not many people do know," I replied to her earlier question. I had stopped playing for the time that she had been talking.

"Does Sacha know that you play?" she asked me, smiling as if she had her own little inside joke. I told her that she didn't. "Well, if I'm correct," she smiled to herself a little wider before continuing, "it would be" she paused, obviously trying to pick the right words, "_beneficial _that you showed her. You're really good, you know" she tacked on at the end.

"Thanks, Elizabeth" Then I looked down, thinking. _Should I show her the song? Why not? _I decided. "I wrote a song. Would you like to hear it?"

She sat down next to me on the bed, "I would love to." Her smile was apparent through her words.

Then I played it. Some of the lyrics went a little like this:

"_How don't you know that I_

_ Memorize the way you are_

_ The way you sing, when I play guitar _

_ You're a fallen angel come to rest, oh, I'm so blessed _

_ Who would've guessed that I'd be so obsessed?_

_ Girl, you're out of this world_

_ You're my shining star_

_ How did I let this get so far?_

_ You've put me under a magic spell_

_ And you can't even tell . . ."_

She was nodding her head the whole time. It is always a safe thing to do when someone is playing, especially if you don't know the song. When I looked up, she looked down quickly, avoiding my eyes. I could see that she was blinking quickly, just like you do when you are trying to blink away tears. When she thought I wasn't looking she wiped her eyes quickly.

"That was really sweet," she told me, still looking down. "It would be a great song on the radio. I think tha-that" she cleared her voice before starting over, "I think that a whole bunch of people feel like that at one time or another, I remember feeling the same way around your age" she smiled at the memory of childhood. "But I don't think my experience was the same as yours" she added, under her breath, probably not meaning for me to hear. Then she looked alarmed, as if she was surprised that she said that out loud. Then she laughed nervously and made some lame excuse that even I could see through before walking out quickly, wiping her eyes again when she thought I wasn't looking.

Not too long after that, Sacha woke up. I was still playing, now also singing along. The song I was playing when she woke up was "Gravity" by John Mayer. My eyes were closed, and the way that I found out that she was up was when she was harmonizing with me. I stopped immediately from surprise at another person in the room.

"Sorry to wake you" I said to her, even though I knew that I hadn't been the one to awaken her.

"Don't worry about it. I don't think you did, anyways. Whoa. You're really good, ya know. How did you learn to play like that? When? Why didn't I know about this? Where did you get that guitar. . ." she bombarded me with too many questions to answer all at once, so I just replied to what I expected her to ask.

"I bought this guitar at the pawn shop that's on the way home from school." I saw her shudder unintentionally and I knew she was thinking of the creepy cat lady that lived behind the building.

"I looked up the chords online, and thanks. I'm really not _that_ good. I mean, it's really not as hard as everyone says it is".

Sacha replied forcefully, "Yes, you are that good" I felt my face turn red as it always did when someone complemented me, "It seems to come naturally to you" then she smiled a dazzling smile that left me breathless.

Not knowing what else to do, I looked down at the guitar and began to strum one of the many songs that I had looked up off of the Intranet. She was right, it did seem natural to be playing the contraption I held in my hands, and my fingers always found the right place to go once I knew the chords. Once I had recognized the song (it was "Free Fallin'" by Tom Petty), I looked back up at Sacha, who was sitting on the floor in front of me in her long pajama and a tank top. She looked amazing, even in her p.j.'s. I knew that she would never find a guy good enough for her.

She sat on the carpet in front of me, and I remembered something that I had left in my desk. As quickly as I dared, I shuffled through my desk drawers to find the creased and ink-splattered page of binder paper that I had spent so many hours working over, trying to get the words right.

"It's a song. I wrote it myself" Then I handed Sacha the sheet of paper so that she could look it over. The song was about a boy who has known a girl for so long and loved her for as long as he can remember, but the girl doesn't know. How does Sacha not know out that she is that girl in the song? Sometimes I wonder to myself if she really doesn't know or if she does know and pretends/tries not to.

After reading the song, she told me that I must be a prodigy child or genius. I told her it was the same thing, and after a moment she told me then that I must be both. She can be so blonde sometimes; I love her for it.

Then she looked at me with a dopey smile that she knows always makes me laugh. I can't help but smile at her silent beauty. As we walked down the hall towards the kitchen, she sang the whole time in her angelic voice. I have told her before that she has an amazing voice, but she always denies it. She is so modest. It was cute for a while, but it sometimes gets annoying. She can never take a compliment.

For breakfast, I made fresh waffles on the waffle maker and Sacha cut up some fruit for fruit salad. It is an automatic routine for us; we do the same thing every time we are over at my house. We work together so well, and I know that it is all to do with the fact that we know each other so well.

Breakfast went well, as it usually does at either of our houses. At mine, it is normally pretty quiet because my mom and dad are gone at work and Charlie hasn't been home for a while. At her house, if we were to eat at the kitchen table, it would be crazy and hectic, usually with Stephie and/or Ryan screaming, and if not Laurel is just sitting there, watching. It's kinda creepy, how calm Laurel always is. She never cries and has these big, watching turquoise eyes that she just looks around with. She has more tolerance of anything than any other two-year-old. I'm betting that she will become an artist when she grows up. Or, at least, something like that. But we normally don't eat at the kitchen table, anyways, we always go outside to the neglected playhouse in the backyard. It is old and creaks when we climb up it, but we not only know that it's safe, but we also know that it's the only place we even have a chance of it being even remotely quiet(er), forget peaceful. We always have cereal, or whatever ends up being in the house at the time.

The playhouse is old and creaky. It is actually more of a playground, because it used to have swings and a slide hanging off of it, but we took off those parts of it and constructed it into a play-fort. We took the slide and hammered it on top of the monkey bars, and then we hammered a tarp to the top of that, so now it's dry when it rains, and we put old carpet on the ground so that we don't have to wear shoes. We put plywood hanging out from the monkey bars so that it's a larger area, so it's a pretty large area. It has our friend's names and their crushes' names written and crossed out (I refused to take part in this) in the stained wood that supports the monkey bars. It had parts of it where Sacha, Jessica, and Amber were convinced that they were going to paint the whole thing with nail polish. They each chose a different color, so it has spots of blue, orange, and most of all, pink. This has happened a few times, but they usually end up just painting each other's nails with different colors and patterns. I will never understand.

Today, while we were eating, Charlie and Elizabeth came walked in.

"Do you remember that day after science class? It was sunny, the day of our frog lab. Was it May . . ." I heard Elizabeth say from down the hall.

Charlie laughed. "15th, and how could I forget? You walked up to me in the hall and asked me if I wanted to go out with you. You were wearing a purple polka-dotted shirt and cutoff blue jeans. You were my best friend before that, and I was just scared to make a move. I'm so glad you did. That was one of the best days of my life."

Elizabeth laughed, and you could hear the smile in her voice. She kissed Charlie lightly on the cheek, and then looked at us almost guiltily. She was so happy. "Hey, kids!"

I had made extra waffles, and put them in the refrigerator so that they could be eaten later that day. I told Elizabeth and being finished with they both sat down with full plates. Sacha and I had been talking, but once Elizabeth sat down, she began talking very quickly, "And the whole time Laurel was just staring! It was weird, but whatever, you know, it . . . it doesn't even matter. Whatever . . ." Then she looked down and didn't talk for about two minutes, then, before she was even close to finishing her second waffle, she quickly excused herself. The whole time she refused to make eye contact with anybody, and I could tell that she was avoiding Elizabeth.

She stormed off to my room, and I excused myself politely and followed her there. She was packing up her small bag over and over again. She would stuff her clothes into the bag, then take them out again before she stuffed them back in. This happened about five times while I stood at the door, then I came beside her and grabbed her arms.

"It . . . It's just not _fair_" she pulled her arms out of my hands and wiped her face. She was beginning to sob. "I can . . . I will never . . . Why . . . not . . ." she covered her face. It was hard to understand what she was saying.

I grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms away from her wet face. Her big, green-brown eyes were wide as she tried to calm her tears. I pushed her shoulder-length brown hair out of her face and pulled her towards me into a hug. "Shhhhh . . . It'll be okay" I thought of what must've upset her and realized that it must be partially that Charlie is moving away and partially that she felt that she would never would have a chance with Dylan. "I'll help you. Today." I whispered into her ear. That was probably the toughest promise that I have ever had to make, and when I said those words, it seemed like a part of me was being chipped away.

She lifted her head off of my shoulder and spoke in a voice that was rough from her crying fit, "Thank you. So much. Just . . . Thanks." Then she laid her head back onto my shoulder. It was like the song _Happy Ending_ by Mika says, "Oh, a little bit of heaven, and a little bit of hell".

Just as I was thinking this, she then looked up and wiped her eyes again. "Oh, shoot! My makeup must be going crazy!"

Sure enough, there was eye makeup running down her face in lines of where her tears had run. _When did she have time to put that on?_ She trained her face down to the floor and ran to the bathroom.

When she came back, she had cleaned her face off. There were no more tear streaks, and I saw that she had applied makeup again. She only had a small amount of it lining her eyes and some that made her lashes darker.

She saw me looking. "It's called mascara" she told me, laughing. I just nodded and tried to look uninterested. I respected that she used so little, when lots of girls at school caked the makeup onto their faces. It's quite disgusting. Lots of girls wear way too much makeup, thinking that it's attractive. It makes it seem like they have something to hide.

Sacha looked at me and smiled, "So, will you follow through with your word?"

I looked at her almost disbelievingly and told her that of course I would, and "have I ever let you down?"

"No, never. Then let's go to the beach today." She was visibly excited. "Lemme change for that, then we can go to the beach" She started mumbling, while nearly running to the bathroom to grab her toothpaste.

She gave me a hug as soon as she got back to my room, bid me goodbye, and left. I felt sad that I had made a promise that would dig myself a hole so deep.

Then I got dressed into my swimsuit, grabbed a towel, and waited for Sacha on my front porch.

She met me at my porch soon after that. "I called Jessica; she's coming later in the day. Amber wouldn't answer the phone, and Taylor is stuck shopping with her mom." She accented the word _mom_, not trying to hide her disgust. She fakes disgust, but I know that she's really jealous of Taylor that her mom will take her shopping. She feels like her mom never does anything with her because of the triplets, but she forgets that her mom funds her shopping trips she drags me along.

I draped my towel over my arm and we walked down to the beach. She chattered on about nothingness, and I added my two-cents where they were necessary so it looked like I was interested, but it was all I could do not to marvel at her beauty. She wore a tube-top dress that she wore for pool parties and such that she got in Mexico on a trip. Underneath that was a rainbow striped bikini that she often wore, I knew that it made her feel confident. And rightly so, too; she looked awesome in it. But she could wear a strait jacket and sweat pants stuffed with cotton and I would still think she was beautiful. That's because it's not her looks that I love (though I definitely love that, too), but it's her laid-back, easy personality.

Once we were at the beach, Sacha immediately looked over to the lifeguard stand, subconsciously turning her charm bracelet around her wrist. She saw that Dylan wasn't there and sighed softly. She looked deflated, so I grabbed her towel from her bag and laid it upon the sand, whispering to her "He'll be here. Don't worry". She looked at me as if she were desperately wishing I was right, but not believing it herself. Then she sat down and took out her journal that she always wrote in during her free time. It was nearly filled with her girly, bubbly writing in a variety of sparkly gel pens. She always seemed to be writing in it, but I'm not sure what it says. What I wouldn't give to read just a day of her journal. I would like to see just a day in her life. I would memorize every dot above the "i's" and every carefully drawn heart in the margins.

The charm bracelet on her left wrist rattled reassuringly with word she wrote. I looked over to what she was writing, and saw that she was drawing. I looked like it said "I 3 Dylan". Then I looked away, saddened by what I had just seen. She had made it very intricate and pretty, the way it danced across the page, surrounded by hearts.

Sacha brushed her hair out of her eyes with her hand and looked over at me, then pointedly over at the lifeguard stand. I looked over too, and saw that Dylan up there and was surrounded by a flock of girls that were smiling flirtatiously and flipping their hair. I hear the sharp _snap! _of Sacha's notebook slam shut. She kept her eyes down, avoiding my gaze, but I knew exactly what she was thinking.

I tapped her bare shoulder and she took a deep breath, still staring at her shoes at the end of her towel for a moment before looking up at me, completely clear expression. It was her mask when she was hiding what she was feeling, but I could see right through it.

"Don't worry" I told her, and when I was about to say something else, I saw her blink hard twice. I knew she was trying to hold back tears. I patted her shoulder and she sighed again before opening her notebook and doodling again.

I lay down on my towel and tried to sleep for a little bit, my thoughts troubled and sad that although I could see through Sacha's mask as plain as day, she could never see through mine. But that was so _Sacha_. She could never read emotions well or ever sensed that anything might be wrong or off. She lives in "ignorant bliss" as the saying says. She lives in her own perfect world, not knowing that her life isn't seamless, that other people may not always say what they mean.

_I hate that I am the face of that_ I thought for a moment, recalling this morning when I said that I would be happy to help her ask her crush on a date when I have totally fallen for her. I wasn't really happy. _And what guy would be?_ _No person, big or small, young or old, would be happy for that. _I tried to think of myself as helping Sacha by not telling her that she is the light of my day and the reason I get up in the morning, but I really know it's merely just my selfishness and fear of rejection.

I turned over to the other side, deep in thought. _Oh, well. Sacha will like who she likes, and if I'm not that person, then I can't do anything to change her mind . . . _I heard Sacha close her notebook and sit up on her towel. I turned to her. Her face was lit up, excited. I knew exactly what was running through her mind.

"Let's go" I said, then faked a smile. I hated that Sacha bought it.

Sacha and I began to walk over to the lifeguard stand, and twice she looked over at me, alarmed. I put my hand on her back and kept her walking. I knew it was the only way that we were going to get it over with.

Then we were over there and she was talking. She was asking him to the movies. I had to help her some, because she was so nervous. I hated the entire experience. I tried to look at an upside to it, but all of the ones that I've come up with are pathetic. Try "I got to hang out with Sacha" or "I get to go to the movies with Sacha". Then you tack on "while she asked out the guy she likes on a date" and "with her crush on a date", and you see why there really was no upside to this experience. Unless you want to count that it made Sacha happy. That is really what my goal is, in the end, because I know I won't be able to reach any other goals; so I just don't set them.

After that, I went home, and so did Sacha. Jessica didn't show up in the end, and she had sent Sacha and me a text saying that she wouldn't be able to make it. This was fine.

I went home and pulled out my guitar immediately and began playing loudly. After a while Charlie came to the door. "Rough day, little man?" he asked me, using the nickname he had used for me when I was a little kid.

I nodded and smiled a sad smile. I opened my mouth to talk, but Charlie beat me to it.

"Sacha" I nodded again and looked into his wise face, searching for advice. He read my expression and smiled at me, speaking vaguely. "Don't give up. Never, ever, give up. If she's worth it, then you're strong enough. You're a brother of mine and I know that if you are anything like me, you really know how to choose `em." He smiled again, but was still dead serious when he said "If you've been chasing after her for this long, then she's worth it." He turned and headed out of my room to the call of Elizabeth's voice. As he left, I thought I heard him mumble, "That girl had better be worth it . . ."


End file.
